


Just Another Day

by rebelrsr



Series: Tumblr Prompt Fills [29]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, F/F, Heavy Angst, Not Canon Compliant, Prompt Fill, Rape/Non-con Elements, redK!Kara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:09:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28529733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelrsr/pseuds/rebelrsr
Summary: Maggie meets Supergirl for the first time. Despite being familiar with superheros, she really wishes it had been just another day in dreary Gotham.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Maggie Sawyer
Series: Tumblr Prompt Fills [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1257614
Comments: 17
Kudos: 34





	Just Another Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RenLuthor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenLuthor/gifts).



> This was a prompt fill for a non-consensual meeting between RedK!Kara and Maggie that turned a little (or a lot, depending on your opinion) darker than the original request asked for.
> 
> TW for non-con/rape and attempted rape.

Some days, Maggie wondered what she’d done to piss off the Powers That Be. It wasn’t enough that she was stuck in Gotham, the dark, dank, disgusting crime capital of the world. Or that she was the only woman in the newly minted Science Division. Or even that she was currently standing ankle deep in gutter runoff in a freezing downpour.

That would have been just another day in the life of Detective Maggie Sawyer.

Maggie wished (not for the first time) for “just another day.” Squaring her shoulders, she ignored the hair stuck to her face and draped over her right eye. “Thanks for the complement, but I’m not interested.”

With a smirk completely unlike the sunny smile Maggie remembered from a million television interviews, Supergirl took another step in her direction. “You are.”

Another denial was pointless. They’d repeated the same lines more than once. “Go home,” Maggie finally said. “This isn’t your city. Plenty of cops there who’d be willing to go a few rounds with the Girl of Steel.”

“I choose you.” Supergirl advanced with a confident, powerful stride. She didn’t seem to mind the water swirling around her signature boots or the rain turning her platinum curls into lank, sodden strands. “You’re different.”

A disbelieving laugh burst from Maggie. “First time anyone used that as a complement.” Dyke. Beaner. Ball Buster. Those words defined how different Maggie was from other women. White, straight, blonde-haired, blue-eyed sorority women. Women who breezed through life with a smile and a fucking hair flip.

Like this superpowered Cassie Nova stalking Maggie. “Complements are for the insecure. You don’t need empty words to stroke your ego.”

“Oh, I need them. Might even like them now and again.” Supergirl was so close that Maggie no longer shivered from the rain. Heat radiated from the toned body standing mere inches away. “You need to work on your game, Supergirl. A few sweet nothings and some flowers go a long way in getting the girl.”

Her jibe changed something. There was an increase in intensity that no amount of banter could lessen. The mocking slant of Supergirl’s lips suddenly appeared menacing. “You are already mine.”

“I don’t belong to you!” Primal fear replaced Maggie’s world-weary frustration. She reached for her gun and took a step back.

Supergirl got to her weapon first. The metal bent and twisted in her hands. “You can’t hurt me.” The shapeless lump landed with a splash as Supergirl released it. “I am a _god_ on this planet.” Her voice dropped to a husky rumble. “I am _your_ god. You will be the first to worship me.”

Maggie grunted as she was slammed into a rock-hard (or made of steel) chest and wrapped in a warm cape. She couldn’t see the ground disappear; however, her stomach swooped, and wind and rain whipped around them as Supergirl took flight.

She wanted to fight. To push and twist away. But Maggie wasn’t Kryptonian, nor was she dressed in black and covered in enough high-tech toys to let her fly like a Bat. Eyes tightly closed, she managed to grip Supergirl’s skintight suit in both fists.

Her fear amused Supergirl. The chest beneath Maggie vibrated with a taunting laugh. “Are you scared, pretty human? Perhaps I should teach you a lesson for refusing my generous offer.”

The cape disappeared with a snap, and Maggie’s grip proved ineffective against gravity. Her scream was ripped away in the wind. Her arms windmilled like a cartoon character going over a cliff – with just as much result.

Her heart hammered in her ears, competing with her voice as she continued to scream.

The familiar skyline rushed up at her, tiny black daggers thrusting out of the enveloping dirty white and gray of the lowered clouds. Maggie didn’t know if it was hard to breathe because of her (rapidly decreasing) altitude or anticipation of splattering onto the ground.

By the time Maggie could recognize the familiar details of The Knights Dome and One Gotham Place, she was resigned to her fate. The fear faded. She thought of all the things she’d done that she regretted. The many times she’d reached for the phone to call her family before slipping it back into her pocket. The soft, beautiful women she’d fucked and discarded when they grew attached.

“I’m sorry,” Maggie whispered to all the people she’d disappointed in her life. “I wish I could change…” Her voice broke off in a pained grunt as she crashed into a wall.

A wall comprised of a chest and a pair of arms topped with a wicked smile. “Don’t change on my account.” Supergirl took off again. Maggie was too shaken, from the fall and her impact with the Chest of Steel, to react to the renewed superspeed flight.

She barely registered when Supergirl crashed through a window in one of Gotham’s most exclusive high-rise residential building. The high ceilings, thick carpets, and glass and chrome surfaces flashed by as Supergirl strode through the space and deposited Maggie onto a football field-sized bed.

Hands pinned her arms to the mattress as Supergirl straddled her thighs.

Every one of Maggie’s muscles tightened. She stared up at a face she’d seen hundreds, if not thousands, of times on the news or in the paper. A face familiar for its bright, cheerful smile and compassion.

As Supergirl stared back, there was no smile in sight. Compassion had been replaced with casual cruelty. Now that they were so close, and Maggie wasn’t hiding under a cloak or against Supergirl’s chest, she watched red veins raise and crawl across Supergirl’s face and neck.

“Don’t do this,” she ordered. The words were right. The tone was not. Fear turned the command into a craven plea. “You’re a superhero. Hope. H-help…” Her voice broke as Supergirl grabbed her button-up and ripped it open like it was made from tissue paper.

Unnaturally warm hands settled beneath the tattered hem of the sports bra Maggie had donned that morning.

“Don’t be frightened,” Supergirl crooned. “Be honored that I’ve chosen you.” Her fingers lifted Maggie’s bra, and a devilish smile curled her lips. “You will learn to serve me, human. To care for all my needs.”

Maggie bucked and twisted against the body pressing her to the bed. Her flailing hands glanced off one of Supergirl’s arms and her cheek – and Maggie screamed as she both heard and felt several bones break.

Pain, terror, anger, and the first cold tendrils of surrender skittered along her nerves.

“Please. Please, help me.” Maggie thought she’d resorted to begging until a warm, wet droplet splashed onto her stomach. The red veins had disappeared from Supergirl’s face. Her eyes held all the horror and fear Maggie felt in her own mind. “I can’t…I can’t stop.”

So quickly that Maggie questioned whether she’d imagined it, the tears were gone. Supergirl’s fingers dug burning trails along Maggie’s torso. “I’ve heard some humans enjoy pain with their pleasure.”

The nails reversed course. Maggie bit her lip against another scream. The imaginary protection of Maggie’s bra disappeared. Supergirl’s long, slender fingers examined her nipples dispassionately for a moment then closed with no care for the damage they might cause.

Maggie’s world tinted red and gray. She couldn’t draw breath to cry out. All her remaining strength went into pulling air in and out of her lungs.

She wasn’t aware enough to notice when Supergirl’s hands dropped away. “I’m sorry. So sorry.” Unlike the harsh, arrogant tone Supergirl had used previously, this one sounded high, hesitant, and heartbreakingly young. “Something…something’s wrong. Please…”

“What the fuck do you think I can do?” Maggie snapped. “What is this? Some fucking Kryptonian Jekyll and Hyde?”

Supergirl didn’t respond. She bent over Maggie, muscles taut and trembling. Her hand rose, inching toward Maggie’s throat before grabbing onto the bedspread and clinging with desperate power.

Her head snapped up. Red veins vied with clenched teeth and a growled, “No!”

Maggie had a front row seat as Supergirl fought an internal battle and lost. Muscles loosened and stretched, an eldritch being regaining control of its alien host. “You’ve been a naughty human. I’ll have to punish you for conspiring with that insipid little girl I used to be.”

Two inalienable facts became clear in that moment. One, Supergirl had been right. Something _was_ wrong, and the being looming over her was _not_ National City’s hero. Not entirely. And two, Maggie wasn’t escaping.

She could accept her fate or think outside the box.

Maggie hadn’t survived the hell that was Blue Springs, Nebraska, to give up now.

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” Maggie fired back. “While I might like a little slap with my tickle, I much prefer pleasure to pain.” Rolling her hips upward, she kept her eyes on Supergirl’s expression. There was no margin for error. “But, if I’m supposed to be your first disciple, shouldn’t I be worshipping _you_?”

It did what none of Maggie’s previous actions had done – it froze Supergirl in place.

Pressing her advantage, Maggie continued to change the narrative. Ignoring the stabbing pain of her broken fingers and hand, she leaned up. Kissed Supergirl’s chest and neck. Softly. In supplication. “I’m yours, Goddess.” The cloying words threatened to lodge in her throat, but Maggie forced them free.

Supergirl responded to the over-the-top adoration. “Show me,” Supergirl said sharply. She sat back, giving Maggie a chance to wiggle from beneath her body.

Moving hurt. Staying had the potential to hurt so much more. Maggie clambered inelegantly off the bed and dropped to her knees in front of Supergirl. “Let me make you feel good.” She reached for the top of the Suit but didn’t dare touch the material yet.

She glimpsed Supergirl’s blown pupils. Irises grown so that only a sliver of blue ringed the black. A flush tinted the golden tan of her cheeks. “Yes. Show me how much you love me, pretty human.”

Love. Maggie’s stomach roiled, and she swallowed back the bile. She couldn’t bring herself to speak again. Gritting her teeth, she dragged down the disguised zipper at the back of the Suit. The rasp of the zipper rubbed along Maggie’s frayed nerves. She wanted to lash out. To fight her way free. Her helplessness bent her spine and dropped her chin.

She kept her eyes glued to Supergirl’s gaze, though, searching for another glimpse of the girl inside the “hero”. The one who might be her accomplice in ending this horror.

The zipper inevitably reached the end of the teeth. The Suit sagged forward. Maggie reached for it, but Supergirl was too impatient to wait. She yanked the slick, rubbery suit off. A body built by Earth’s yellow sun flexed in front of Maggie.

She reached for the cotton, dog- and cat-decorated briefs. The gusset was damp. That and Supergirl’s smirk left no doubt that she was enjoying Maggie’s obeisance. Shoving the fabric aside, Maggie dragged her tongue through slick folds.

Trim hips jumped at her touch, and a hand tangled painfully in her hair. “Such a talented mouth. It seems humans do have some use. What other skills do you have?”

Nothing on Earth would convince Maggie to draw this out. Focusing her attention on Supergirl’s clit, she bit back a whimper and slipped one then two fingers into Supergirl’s cunt.

There was no cry of pleasure or attempt to drive Maggie’s fingers deeper. Supergirl grew stiff and still. Her eyes were glassy with tears as she stared down at Maggie. Torn between serving the aroused god and protecting the girl silently begging her to stop, Maggie’s rhythm faltered.

Glass shattered.

Supergirl jerked and then slumped sideways. Three darts projected from her neck and shoulder.

The bedroom door exploded open, and black-clad figures stormed the room. Before Maggie could do more than blink in surprise, something sharp jabbed her arm.

* * *

Maggie jerked awake. Her hands ached dully under a series of splints and one thin cast that covered her left hand from fingertips to elbow. She eyed the open medical facility. No doctors or nurses wandered the space or sat at the computer and chart-laden station to one side.

She was alone.

Moving slowly, she swung her legs off the raised bed and waited for the dizziness and lingering nausea to fade. It was time to get the hell out of Dodge. Hospitals were every cop’s worst nightmare.

Before Maggie managed to get a single socked foot on the floor, she heard a woman cry out then begin to sob. The sobs were deep, as if torn from the woman’s soul. “Rao, Alex! How many…how many people did I hurt?”

Maggie sucked in a deep breath. It was the girl! The girl who’d been Supergirl’s alter-ego. She tumbled from the bed. She had to leave. She had to get out. Now.

“It’s OK, Kar. You’re OK.” Whoever was with the other Supergirl needed to work on their pep talks.

“No! Alex, I remember. The cop in Gotham. I…” Supergirl broke off, and Maggie heard a series of painful heaves.

Tears burned Maggie’s cheeks. Phantom hands gripped her wrists. A body pressed her down. She shook her head against the memory and the _feel_ , knowing they weren’t real. Neither were the pleading blue eyes boring into Maggie as she drove her fingers into Supergirl’s wet cunt.

Uncaring of her injuries and the too big sweatpants and t-shirt she now wore, Maggie fled toward the only door in the large room.


End file.
